


Nothing Left to Burn

by JakkuCrew (fromstars), perlaret



Series: Poe DADmeron [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Relationships, Kid Fic, Latino Character, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Poe DADmeron, and maybe..., knightpilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8018491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromstars/pseuds/JakkuCrew, https://archiveofourown.org/users/perlaret/pseuds/perlaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no easy way to explain to your child that some monsters wear human faces. So, for now, Poe doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Left to Burn

"It's weird," Finn said as he sat down in the mess across from Poe, utensils clattering as he placed his tray on the table. "I knew you were a commander, but I guess I didn't realize you were old enough to be a… dad," Finn said, waving a hand towards Poe.

 Rey nodded in agreement as she shoveled down another forkful of food. “Surprised me too.”  
  
Poe laughed, shaking his head. "Says a couple of punk kids," he shot back, leaning back in his chair and twisting to watch Jessika take Kaera through the lunch lines. Although he couldn't hear their conversation from here, Poe recognized all too well the conspiratorial expressions the duo tended to share whenever the low-flight speeders that Pava sometimes took Kaera for a ride around base on came up. He could see the offer coming a klick away.  
  
He turned back to look at Finn and Rey as they stared at him with big, blinking expressions. Was it weird that he was older, Poe wondered, or weird that they were so young?  
  
Poe brushed off the thought. "She's only six. I'm not that old," he demurred, biting back another laugh.  
  
Rey paused, a half torn bread roll in her hands. She swallowed on air. "Six?"  
  
"Mmmhm," Poe nodded. “Turned just a few months ago.”  
  
"And you left her behind?" Rey said urgently, dropping her hands to the table. "Beebee-Ate thought you were dead! She could have been all alone–"  
  
Finn interrupted. "Man, you had a kid to think about and you didn't just give up all your intel on the Finalizer right away?"  
  
"–Whoa, woah!" Poe threw up his hands. "But I'm not dead, so there's no need to panic my kid over the fact that I am clearly and conspicuously alive... Got it?”

 “I’m just saying,” Rey said, receding with a frown. “You can’t leave her all alone like that.”

“Ah,” Poe swallowed, and the wave of familiar guilt was followed quickly by the question of just how much experience Rey had with being left _alone_ to react like that. He shot for a confident response, backing it up with a wink. “Don’t worry about it guys, I fully intend to live forever.”

“Yeah, but–” Rey interjected, eyebrows drawn together in consternation.

Poe cut her off with a deliberately reassuring smile. “Listen. Even if I don’t, she’s still got family. My father’s still alive. He’d take her in a heartbeat. And the General– well, she’d make sure Kaera was in good hands.” He’d lived with this decision for years, to keep fighting despite the fear the worst could happen and his daughter would have to grow up without him, and it never got easier. It’d been years, and he still remembered what it’d been like to lose his own mother, and he didn’t want that for Kaera. Then again, the alternatives to that choice never got more appealing either… not even now.

Finn let out a low whistle and let his voice drop significantly. “I believe you, but… man. It sounds like the General’s got her hands full with her own family. Kind of a weird, massive, scary family problem, you know?” 

Rey scowled, her ire quickly diverted, and she leaned in with the vehemence of someone ready to rehash her point in a regular argument. “I still can’t believe that monster is the _son_ of such nice people. I’m still not convinced he’s not lying to them.”

“I just want to get off planet and away from him,” Finn said, shooting a troubled look Poe’s way. “Kylo Ren is no joke. You wouldn’t believe the stories they told about him in the First Order. The sooner we leave to look for Skywalker, the better.”

Poe grimaced. “I’m not sure I need any horror stories–” he admitted, a knot settling in his stomach. “But monster or man, I trust the general. There’s a reason he’s here, and Skywalker probably will get involved too. We need him more than ever.”

“There’s a monster?”

Poe bit back a curse and twisted to see Kaera standing just behind him, juice pod in hand and Pava following with their food trays. Kaera’s eyes were lit with a fierce gleam. “Can I fly with you and shoot at it, Papa?”

The knot in his gut only tightened. Poe wrinkled his nose and pretended to consider. “I don’t know,” he mused. “You might be too scared.” 

“Nuh uh!” Kaera demanded, scrambling onto the chair beside him, drink held precariously aloft. Poe reached to steady her hand and she settled into her seat a moment later, mess mercifully avoided. “I’m brave! What kind of monster?”

“It’s a big one,” Finn joked, exchanging a glance with Rey. Poe immediately shot him a quelling look and Finn raised a perplexed eyebrow, but didn’t elaborate.

“With eight legs,” Poe added, drawing Kaera’s quizzical gaze back to him. “Like a spider.”

“Ewww,” Kaera said, thoroughly dismayed. “I don’t wanna hunt a spider. That’s a job for Papa.”

“I second that. Poe, you can take of every spider on base,” Pava said without missing a beat as she sat down on the other side of Kaera, having arranged both of their meals in front of them. Kaera immediately went for the sunapple slices on one side of her plate, taking a too big bite with great relish. Poe felt a flood of gratitude towards his squadron-mate, feeling distinctly lucky that Pava had long proven she could tell when a little fibbing went a long way with a kid. It was a gift that was only ever counterbalanced by her equal willingness to him off if he overdid it in his drive to protect Kaera.

…and if she ever found out just how much Poe had been keeping from Kaera lately, Poe was pretty sure Jessika Pava would make a point of kicking his ass in the next set of drill exercises.

“Probably for the best,” Poe said, ruffling his daughter’s hair. A sneaky curl sprung loose from the ponytail he’d wound her hair up in that morning as she reached for another piece of sunapple. “You and Pava let me take care of big spider monsters, and you can take care of those greens. Use your utensils, please.”

“Ughhh, I guess,” Kaera groaned. She leveled a sullen glare at the plate in front of her and reluctantly picked up her fork. Poe smiled as she rallied, taking a beleaguered bite of her vegetables that had everyone at the table stifling a laugh, and it helped a little as he tried to hold his apprehension at bay. One thought refused to be set aside as he stared down at his still carefree daughter: there were some demons of his own that he needed to face, and it needed to be done sooner rather than later.

 

-

 

Fortunately for Poe, his life was a busy one, and his schedule full. It kept his mind occupied. Less fortunately, that schedule required his presence at another one of Kylo Ren’s debriefings that very afternoon. 

“Be good, play small like the General taught you,” he told Kaera when he sent her off to her afternoon lessons. “And no running off this time. I’ll get you after your dinner with Maani.”

Kaera stuck her lip out in a dramatic pout that did precisely nothing to fool him. “I don’t run off _that_ much.”

Poe shooed her off with final kiss to her forehead and a laugh, and then, once the door slid shut behind her bouncing ponytail, he steeled himself and turned towards the center of base. 

Ren’s debriefings had been broken up into several sessions – each with a different primary concern, and of varying levels of security. Some of the meetings were focused on general knowledge of the First Order, others had covered the Knights of Ren, his knowledge of Snoke and his organization, even Kylo’s former role within the order. And of all the members of the Resistance Brass, Poe was one of the very few who had clearance for every meeting.  

For this particular debriefing, Poe could count only a handful of other people besides himself who had garnered invitations. While he knew rank alone qualified him to be there, Poe had long suspected Leia had been otherwise intentional about including his presence. Not that he planned on mentioning it.  

He was relieved to find he wasn’t the last to arrive to the secure room tucked on the far side of the commandcenter, at least. Ackbar and Solo were already there, the Admiral seated at the far end, and Han Solo resting a hip casually against the table beside him, arms folded. They both looked up when Poe stepped through the door with twin expressions of wary guilt that relaxed when they recognized him. Poe suspected he was not the one they had clearly just been talking about. 

Poe nodded a greeting as he edged for a seat. “Good afternoon.” 

There wasn’t time for much else, because no sooner were the words out of his mouth than the General herself arrived, Kylo Ren a tall, looming shadow at her heels, followed seconds later by Admiral Satara and Major Brace. Poe took his time reaching for his datapad and willed himself to focus, pushing aside the discomfort that welled up into a neat little box he could shove out of the forefront of his mind. He’d gotten a lot of practice at that over the last couple weeks, and it was familiar to settle himself into businesslike detachment. When he finally looked up, General Organa was settling briskly into her seat, waving at the place beside her. 

“Ben, sit down. Let’s get started.” 

The matter at hand was straightforward enough: discussing the First Order’s contingencies and how they might fall, and what their next moves might be whether or not they were aware of Ren’s defection in the wake of Starkiller’s destruction. The problem was that even straightforward meetings took hours to wade through, and breaks were few and far between.  

Around lunch, a small group of droids cycled in, serving the team meals that were efficiently packed into compact wooden boxes. Poe downed his lunch with a cup of sweetened caf that kept his head buzzing and his leg bouncing restlessly. When he began tapping his fingers idly against his mug, Kylo Ren angled him a look at Poe that sat squarely between annoyance and exhaustion. And then, before Poe could even react, Kylo Ren returned to ignoring him and the rest of the room around him for the duration of the meal, picking at his food as if he didn’t taste it. For a brief moment, Poe allowed himself to watch the other man, observing every detail – from the dark grey robes he’d been given, the tiredness that sharpened his features into something wan, to his entirely too-human face that was so unlike the mask Poe had faced last and too like... someone else. It was disconcerting, and not for all the right reasons.

By the time the meeting had ended, Poe was resigned to his fate. He gathered his things slowly, taking time to muster his courage. His usually unfailing sense of certainty was playing hide-and-seek better than Kaera at her finest. It was only when the General bid her farewell to the other officers that Poe’s gaze was drawn back to the room, and he realized Han Solo and Kylo Ren were already halfway out the door.

Poe didn’t linger, and he pretended not to notice the way General Organa caught his eye in the moment before he turned to follow them out. He ducked into the hallway and, before he could change his mind again, called out. 

“Ben!” 

It came out sharper than Poe had intended, the name falling awkward off his tongue, but it hit its mark. The two men drew to a stop, though it was only Han who looked back, giving Poe a measured onceover from over his shoulder. Poe squared himself and strode forward. Kylo Ren – _Ben_ , Poe made himself think, _it was supposed to be Ben now_ – stood still, head canted back only the slightest bit to indicate he was listening. 

“Ben,” he repeated, more evenly. “I’d like to speak with you.”

Han Solo raised both eyebrows, looked between them, and gave his son a perfunctory pat on the arm. “I think you’ve got this one, kid,” he said, too exaggerated to be entirely genuine. “You know the deal. I’ll meet up with you at Leia’s place.”

“Fine,” Kylo said, _Ben_ said, tone clipped. It was only after Han nodded and bid a hasty retreat that he finally sighed and looked back at Poe, resignation and weariness at war on his face. “What is it, Dameron? The briefing is over.”

Poe narrowly avoided the temptation to grind his teeth, a brilliant flash of anger dimming out the earlier anxiety that had plagued him. “Don’t give me that,” he said, more sharply than intended.

“I’m all ears,” he replied, stiff and unhelpful.

“We should talk,” Poe started, attempting to keep his voice level as best he could. Not that it was much use; even he could feel the irritation radiating from his words. “–at least clear the air, now that we have to work together.” 

Ben looked down at Poe, and Poe could see the wash of uncertainty and caution coloring his features. Poe wondered briefly if the other man even realized how open his face was without his helmet to hide every shift of expression. But then, as quickly as it came, the emotion vanished from his eyes and Ben crossed his arms.

“You wish to discuss our previous meeting on the _Finalizer_ ,” Ben said with a lift of his chin. “An unfortunate encounter for which I apologize. If it is any consolation, you obliterated the command center of that dock and most of the _Finalizer’s_ major missile cannons needed to be replaced.”  

“I’m not sure how that is supposed to be consolatory,” Poe said, frowning. 'Unfortunate' was sure one way to put it.

“While the _Finalizer_ was my ship, it was General Hux’s responsibility. He was livid – you wrecked the ship, a trooper mutinied, and his mission failed due to his poor security measures,” Ben explained, the corners of his lips twitching momentarily upwards at the end before he backtracked. “–though I suppose that particular vindication is only enjoyable for me. Suffice to say it was effective and costly,” Ben finished, voice flat.  

“Yeah. Probably only enjoyable for you,” Poe managed, grappling with the belated realization that Kylo– _Ben–_ had been trying to... joke? He didn’t know whether to be surprised, or maybe he should have expected it– there it was again, the past rearing its ugly head. “But the guy seems like an ass from what I’ve heard, so fair enough.”

“Indeed,” Ben said. Abruptly, he switched tacks. “Dameron, I won’t pretend to believe anything I do is sufficient - not for you, and not for anyone else here. Especially not for you.” He paused, then looked away. “But whether or not people here can trust me, I have valuable information.” 

“I know that,” Poe said, half on a sigh; he'd reminded himself of that fact a million times since Starkiller's destruction. “And the intel you’ve given _has_ proven good so far, which is good, especially since it’s my people who are the ones sent out to investigate it. Just keep that in mind, okay? People's lives are riding on what you do. _Good_ people.” Ben didn’t respond right away, and silence threatened to be more uncomfortable than further conversation, so he continued. “And your family’s inclined to trust you, so that’s something. That General Solo was able to get through to you–” There’s something too bitter about that particular line of thought, so Poe breaks from it. Not soon enough.

Ben tilted his head, a bit too much, like he was still accustomed to compensating for his mask. His gaze was sudden and piercing. “Did you know it was me?” he asked, too direct, and it was exactly like the younger man Poe remembered. Poe knew exactly when he meant.

Poe lifted his chin. “I had an idea.”

“I’d wondered,” Ben said. Poe resisted the urge to laugh, the only thing escaping him a frustrated sound of disbelief. 

“You were in my head, _Benji,”_ he snapped, temper fraying without his leave. “I’m not sure how you missed that.” The acid mustered behind the old nickname found its mark easily and Ben’s turned his head away, lips pressing together in an unhappy line. The angled lines of his profile had matured with time, sure, but the familiarity was still there, still everywhere. It made something old in Poe’s chest ache in ways the anger and hurt couldn’t quite drown.

“I wasn’t looking for that,” Ben replied, less patiently. He turned back to Poe, drawing himself upright with a confidence that didn’t feel genuine, and certainly wasn’t calm. “I had my mission, which was the map. I wasn’t interested in anything else, not the Resistance or its plans, let alone our personal history.” 

There are half a dozen angry retorts Poe could imagine spitting back but he caught them between his teeth and swallowed them back, the meaning behind Ben’s words striking him – _He really didn’t know?_

“...Right, okay,” Poe breathed out, shoving those dangerous thoughts out of his mind for the time being. The last thing he needed was for Ben to unintentionally slip into his thoughts and glean information that was far more personal this time. Poe slipped a hand into his pocket and reached for the small wood carving he’d stashed there to fiddle with whenever he needed to clear his head.

“You really didn’t see anything else, then?” Poe said, leaning against the walls of the hallway. “I mean, in my head…” 

“No,” Ben said flatly. “Searching for your opinion of me would have only been a distraction. And an obvious weakness to exploit – had you realized me looking for something… like that.” 

“Right, because I’m the one who exploits people,” Poe scoffed.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Ben said, his frown deepening. “I didn’t look for anything else. I don’t need to be a mind reader to guess what you or anyone else here thinks of me. And taking a tour of your inner thoughts wouldn’t have made it any easier for me to get the job done.”

“Comforting,” Poe said, dryer than the sand back on Jakku. “Really.” 

Ben shifted on his feet. “Look. If you have any lingering pains, you should talk to the med bay about migraine medication. About a week’s worth should do it,” he offered awkwardly. “There are faster fixes, but given the circumstances, I assume you’d prefer to let it clear up with rest and medication.”

“I’m fine,” Poe said, even as he thought that taking something for the headache currently taking root between his temples wouldn’t be such a bad idea. “But thanks anyways, I suppose. I’m sure it wasn’t great to be the test subject for figuring that out.”

Ben shrugged in agreement. “The Knights of Ren practiced on each other. I learned quickly how to assuage the pain.”  

“...Right,” Poe said, wishing that that didn’t turn his stomach in an altogether different way. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, looking for some hint as how he could get this conversation back on track. “Listen, for what it’s worth, I didn’t come to argue. I’m angry with you but I can still work with you, because frankly, I’ve got a dozen more important things to worry about besides trying to hold a grudge. That isn’t going to win this war.”

Something unreadable, something Poe didn’t _want_ to read, flashed briefly across Ben’s face. 

“I didn’t expect anything different,” Ben said. He made a short, agitated gesture with one hand. There was a pale, thin scar along the backside of his thumb that trailed all the way to the knob of his wrist. Poe didn’t recognize it. “Was there anything else?

Yes, Poe thought. There was everything else. There were too many questions, too many years that demanded explanations.

There was too much on the line.

“No,” Poe said, carding his fingers through his hair, and let it go. “You know your way back to…?

“Yeah.”

Poe nodded once and took one last look at the shadow of the Ben Organa he’d once known before turning and walking away. He didn’t let himself look back as he left.

After all, Ben hadn’t.  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the wait! Comments are deeply appreciated.


End file.
